


Fides, Spes, Caritas

by San Antonio Rose (ramblin_rosie)



Series: Semper Fi AU [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Corps Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose
Summary: After being medically discharged from the Marines, Dean needs to clear his head, so he drives, not sure what he's looking for and not knowing that he'll find something he never expected.
Relationships: Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Series: Semper Fi AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043808
Kudos: 4





	Fides, Spes, Caritas

Dean’s discharge came through, but the doctors wouldn’t clear him to work or hunt or anything else yet. His next round of appointments was a couple of months away. He had nothing to do, nowhere to be. So he told Sam, truthfully, that he needed to go clear his head. Sam said okay.

At least he thinks that’s how it went. He can’t remember for sure, but he doesn’t remember Sam looking worried. He’s done this before, gone for a drive to clear his head. His head needs clearing.

So Dean gets in his car.

And he drives.

He doesn’t know where he is or where he’s going. He can focus on the traffic when it’s there and the scenery when it isn’t, and he can text Sam when he gets to where he’s stopping for the night, although he can’t remember the name of the town a minute later. Pretty soon it’s all a blur, the towns and the road and the bars where he eats but doesn’t drink and the girls. There’s some sympathy sex, but he doesn’t go looking, and he doesn’t really care when he leaves a bar alone. He’s a freak, and he knows it, one hand gone and one leg still not quite working like it should.

He remembers his name, who he is, what he does, where he lives. But he doesn’t know where he is or where he’s going. He just drives.

And then he wakes up in bed with Lisa Braeden.

They’re not at her place in Cicero. It’s a motel room, but he doesn’t know where. He grabs his phone—small favors, she’s asleep on his left shoulder—and texts Sam, and then he tries to piece together how he wound up here with her. But he’s got nothing.

Then she stirs, blinks, looks up at him. Smiles. “Morning.”

“Hey,” he replies. Smiles. Touches her face with his hand like he can’t believe it’s real, which... he kind of can’t.

“You were in pretty rough shape last night. How are you?”

“I... I don’t know. Lisa, how’d you find me?”

“It was the weirdest thing. I’d just taken my son to spend some time with my mom, decided to stop at a bar, and... there you were.”

“Was I okay?”

“Pretty out of it, though you weren’t drunk. But you knew me. And....” She trails a finger down his chest, makes him shiver. “Other things were just fine,” she adds with a smirk.

He smiles wryly. “Wish I could remember.”

“Why don’t I get some breakfast and remind you?”

“Sounds good.”

He sleeps while she’s gone, but he manages to remember, sort of, when she wakes him with food. After they eat, she slides back into bed with him and runs a finger over the tattoo on his chest. “So what happened to you?”

He tells her. He tells her everything. He probably repeats himself because he can’t remember, but they stay in bed and have sex and he tries to run his left hand through her hair and fumbles and she doesn’t laugh at him, and he talks for who knows how long. Couple of days, he thinks. He texts Sam when he remembers to.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he finally confesses. “I can’t think straight. I can’t remember.”

“Shh,” says Lisa and takes his mind off it.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been there when he finally decides to watch the news. He can’t follow it well. But there is one story that suddenly gets his full attention, like he’s finally awake after all this time.

Animal attack. Missing heart. He checks the weather—tomorrow’s the full moon.

“Lis,” he says gravely, “I’m gonna need your help.”

He doesn’t know if she believes him or if she’s just humoring him because she knows he’s got a short somewhere upstairs. But she helps. She runs down news reports and brings him food, plays devil’s advocate as he pieces together the clues as fast as he can. He talks it over with Sam, too, but convinces him not to come up in person. He finally narrows down the identity of the werewolf just before sunset and dashes off to set up in the woods behind the were’s house. Why Lisa helps him set up the sniper rifle and doesn’t try to talk him out of using real silver bullets, he doesn’t know. Maybe she figures he’s not in any kind of shape to actually take the shot. Maybe she thinks he’ll have second thoughts when nothing happens.

The moon rises. The house goes dark. The were steps out in the backyard and wolfs out. Then he sniffs the air and _looks right at them_ and snarls.

Lisa holds her breath and doesn’t cling to Dean, but he can tell she wants to. The were takes three steps toward them, and Dean fires. Clean through the heart. The were lets out a death howl as he falls.

Dean grabs the brass and Lisa grabs the rifle. They beat a hasty retreat, but he barely gets the rifle into the trunk before he can feel his focus start to go. She navigates, but he can barely see beyond the turns she points out to him. He thinks they’re lost. She tells him where to park.

They’re not going to make it back to the motel tonight.

How they end up in the back seat, he doesn’t know. He thinks there are flashlights shining in the window at one point, but everything’s a blur except LisaLisaLisa.

They leave. She drives. He sleeps. He doesn’t know where he is or where he’s going.

He wakes up in bed with Lisa Braeden.

They’re in Cicero now, he can tell, though he doesn’t know how they got there. They’ve got their clothes on. He thinks he’s sick.

He sleeps a lot. Sometimes he hears her on the phone. Sounds like she’s talking to Sam. But it’s hot—Sandbox hot—except when she’s got cold rags and ice cream for him. She’s so gentle, like a mom.

He doesn’t deserve her.

Finally, a cold front. Finally, the fog lifts. He’s in Cicero at Lisa’s house, and he’s up and around and mostly making sense of things. He remembers things—not everything, but he remembers that she helped him on a hunt and that she’s got a kid who’s with his grandmother in Oklahoma somewhere. She had a friend go get her car, so it’s here, and so is Dean’s baby. He likes her still, even after all this time. And she likes him.

The house doesn’t. Especially the stairs. And he almost falls in the bathroom a couple of times. He misses home... but he doesn’t want to leave.

He’s had a few good days in a row when she looks at him over breakfast. “I was wondering. You think we could... make it official?”

He blinks. “Make what official?”

“You and me.”

He blinks again.

She blushes a little. “I know it’s kind of sudden, and I probably ought to let you meet Ben first. But we need to get you back to San Antonio soon, and I thought it might be easier if I could help. Can’t do as much if I’m not family.”

There’s something else that she’s not telling him. But he gets the sense it’s the sort of thing she doesn’t want to sway his decision. She wants this to be about the two of them and nothing else.

“Let me get this straight,” he says. “You want me. Seriously. For the rest of your life.”

She nods.

“Even with the monster hunting and the scars and the hand and all the rest of it.”

She nods again. “All of it. I care about you. I don’t know if I’m really in love with you, but... hell. I think I’d rather make the commitment and fall in love later.”

There’s a piece of shrapnel poking out of his cheek, he thinks. She sees it, removes it, and throws it away, like it’s just a cactus thorn. Like it doesn’t matter.

That was what bugged him with Carmen, with the chicks who gave him sympathy sex. It mattered to them that he was damaged. Lisa knew him before, six—no, seven—years ago, knows how he’s changed, what he’s lost. And it doesn’t matter.

“For life,” he repeats.

She picks up her right hand and reaches for his stump, and he could _swear_ he feels her touch ghosting along his phantom hand and bites back a groan of pleasure. Then she takes hold of the stump and rubs her thumb over it gently. And she looks him in the eye. “For life.”

He caresses her face, and she caresses his stump. He kisses her, and she kisses back.

“We’d better go, then,” he says, his voice kind of rough. “Before I decide to start the honeymoon early.”

She giggles.

They get rings, go to the JP, take the vows and sign the paperwork. He takes her to lunch, and they go back to her place and spend the rest of the day in bed.

Then things get hazy again. He knows where he is, who he is, where he lives, what he does, that he’s married. He helps Lisa pack, but he doesn’t remember why. He tries to use his left hand and fumbles. He’s in pain, and she gives him pain patches when she’s supposed to. He sleeps a lot, and she calls movers.

Then they get in his car. She drives. He sleeps. He doesn’t know where he is or where he’s going.

He wakes up in bed with Lisa Braeden.

They’re married. He remembers that much. But they’re in _his_ bed, the adjustable one that he’s missed but couldn’t remember enough to know why he couldn’t sleep right on other beds. They’re in his room in San Antonio. They’ve got their clothes on. Lisa’s asleep on his left shoulder, but her right hand’s on her stomach like there’s somebody home.

“Lis?” he whispers and runs his right hand through her hair and doesn’t fumble.

She stirs, blinks, looks at him. Smiles. “Hey. We’re home.”

Home.

And they’re married.

And at breakfast, there’s Sam and Jess and a little boy named Ben who kind of looks like Dean, and Lisa’s got her hand on her stomach like there’s somebody home. Dean can’t remember half of what’s happened, how long he was gone, anything, but Sam says he’s got an appointment tomorrow at the VA hospital to find out what’s going wrong with his brain. Jess thinks it’s a short from something that got knocked loose when he got blown up. She doesn’t say it like that, but it’s what she means. And Lisa says he’d had a fever, which wouldn’t help.

There’s a good chance they’ll have to move. Find a better place for just them so Sam and Jess can have their own place, their own family. They haven’t heard from Dad or Cas in a while. Dean can’t hunt like this, not until they figure out what’s going on. He can’t work, either, not really. He doesn’t have a clue what lies ahead. But for now...

For now.

He’s married.

She’s got a kid who looks like him.

He’s got his brother and his sister and his wife and his... his _son_.

His family.

And he’s home.

And he’s content.


End file.
